


meat grinder

by jyanyongs (betamax524)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (but not between johnyong), Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Infidelity, Halloween, Horror, Infidelity, M/M, Murder, Obsession, Other: See Story Notes, Suburbia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betamax524/pseuds/jyanyongs
Summary: Everyone knows about Taeyong. Taeyong, who lives in the prettiest house in all of Stepford. Taeyong, who’s been married to Mr. Kim for nearly seven years now. Sweet, soft spoken, submissive Taeyong, the perfect househusband.Taeyong, who Johnny happens to have a crush on. Despite the whole, y’know, married for seven years thing.He’s content to just watch from a distance, really. But Taeyong seems to have other plans for him.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, side taeyong/oc
Comments: 31
Kudos: 165





	meat grinder

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: like the tags say, gore, and this whole fic is generally just kinda disturbing. if you don't like reading about meat cuts and relates stuff Uh... Please Turn Away. the porn is barely there but mentions stuff like bloodplay so youve been warned.
> 
> BASICALLY if you get squeamish easily this fic is not for you
> 
> i was inspired by natsuo kirino's "out" then everything spiralled from there

🔪🔪🔪

The Stepford complex is hidden away in some expensive part of Seoul, one very dedicated architect’s attempt at recreating American suburbia. Rows of identical houses line the streets, each with their own manicured lawn and charming paint job.

This surreal little pocket of the world is where Johnny lives, on 5th street, in the house with the golden yellow paint. And two streets down is where he works, at the local butcher.

It’s a good job, honestly. All Johnny has to do is chop up meat and cater to some of the residents’ oddly specific requests. Like Ms. Park, and how she insists that meat be ground into a (frankly disgusting) pulp. Or Mr. Jung, who always asks for whole chickens to be cut in half, lengthwise.

But like, Johnny doesn’t really mind. The pay’s decent, and Stepford’s small enough that the shop can be run by just him and his co-worker, Doyoung. Doyoung’s a little abrasive, but he does his work well, and he looks out for Johnny in his own way.

Right now, the two of them are huddled behind the shop, taking a smoke break after closing up for the day.

“It’s Friday tomorrow, right?” Johnny says, handing Doyoung his lighter. Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes as he lights a cigarette.

“You’re obsessed,” he hisses, teeth biting down on the cigarette in a way that makes Johnny scrunch up his nose in disgust.

“It’s a simple question,” Johnny huffs.

Doyoung rolls his eyes again. “Yes, it’s Friday tomorrow.”

Johnny hums.

“Look, I don’t blame you,” Doyoung says, looking away, “Everyone wants him. They’re just waiting for him to crack.”

Johnny laughs bitterly. “Don’t think he ever will.”

“I’d disagree,” Doyoung says, exhaling a plume of smoke, “Something’s gonna give eventually.”

Johnny only hums again, flicking ashes down onto the gravel.

🔪🔪🔪

The man in question walks into the butcher shop the next day at three-thirty in the afternoon, right on the dot.

Taeyong, who lives in the prettiest house in all of Stepford. Taeyong, who’s been married to Mr. Kim for nearly seven years now. Sweet, soft spoken, submissive Taeyong, the perfect househusband.

Taeyong, who Johnny happens to have a crush on. Despite the whole, y’know, married for seven years thing.

Johnny wants to say he’s not  _ that  _ whipped, but when he catches himself glancing at the clock, waiting for three-thirty to strike, he figures, yeah, he’s probably obsessed like Doyoung says he is.

He’d like to think his crush is fairly innocent, though. Taeyong’s pretty, always polite, and never has any strange meat-related requests. That’s all. A harmless little crush.

_ (“He’s like a haunted doll,” Doyoung said yesterday, “Don’t you think he’s a little… off?” _

_ Johnny never really answered.) _

Today, Taeyong’s wearing a flowy blouse, his blonde hair neatly pinned back. From what Johnny knows, he only really leaves the house once a week to do groceries, so it makes sense that he has the time to plan his outfits in advance. Doesn’t stop Johnny from becoming even more enamored, though.

Doyoung passes by him, subtly elbowing him in the side and shooting him a glance that means  _ you’re staring.  _ Johnny clears his throat, just in time for Taeyong to stop his shopping cart in front of him.

“Hi, Johnny,” Taeyong says, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “Do you have any good steaks for me? It’s my husband’s birthday tomorrow.”

Johnny smiles, ignoring how his chest clenches. “We’ve got some great rib-eye steaks that would be perfect,” he says, leading Taeyong to another display.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Taeyong says airily, eyes focused on Johnny. Like he’s putting him through some sort of test.

Johnny clears his throat again, gesturing towards the meat in front of him. “Here they are,” he says, “Let me wrap up the best ones for you.”

“I just need two, thank you,” Taeyong says, reaching to pet Johnny’s arm where it rests on the counter. “You’re always so nice to me.” 

Johnny tries to ignore how his heart skips a beat. He  _ tries. _

Doyoung fake-gags from across the store, and Johnny has to resist the urge to flip him off in front of Taeyong.

“That all?” he asks, awkward under the weight of Taeyong’s stare.

Taeyong smiles. He reaches up to gently place his hand on Johnny’s face for just a split second, before pulling back and resting both hands on the shopping cart handle. Like nothing happened.

“That’s all for today,” Taeyong says, “Thank you, Johnny.”

“Anytime,” Johnny says in a daze, watching as Taeyong heads towards Doyoung at the cash register.

After Taeyong leaves, Doyoung briskly walks towards Johnny, pulling him close.

“You do know Mr. Kim’s already celebrated his birthday, right?” he hisses into Johnny’s ear.

“Huh?”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Mr. Kim was born in March, dumbass. They had a whole party, remember? Your little crush ordered so much damn beef.”

Johnny blinks. He remembers helping Taeyong load up his car, remembers the lingering glances Taeyong cast his way. And of course, he remembers Taeyong shyly asking him if he wanted to come to the party, whispered into his ear.

“I mean, yeah, but what does that have to do with this?” Johnny says, “So Taeyong lied about a birthday to get some good steak. What’s the big deal?” 

Doyoung groans. “You’re hopeless. Figure it out yourself, then.”

🔪🔪🔪

Taeyong comes in the next day, looking perfectly prim with a crisp shirt and a kerchief around his neck. The visit is so out of the blue even  _ Doyoung _ is surprised, to the point that he nearly forgets to close the freezer.

“Hi Johnny,” Taeyong says immediately, walking towards where Johnny’s fixing the price displays.

Johnny’s frozen in place. Taeyong is supposed to come in every Friday, at three-thirty, like clockwork. He’s kept to that strict schedule for the past three years Johnny’s been working here. Seeing him doesn’t feel real, like this is just some dream that Johnny’s going to wake up from any moment now.

“Johnny?” Taeyong says, bringing him back to reality, “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Johnny says awkwardly, “What–What brings you here?”

Taeyong giggles, cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink. “I just wanted to thank you for the steak,” he says.

Johnny gives a jerky nod. Taeyong smiles, reaching up to rest his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. Before Johnny can even say anything, Taeyong pushes himself up slightly and neatly kisses him on the cheek.

It’s like everything stops.

And just as suddenly as it happens, Taeyong pulls back. “I’ll see you next week?” he smiles, as if nothing happened, and all Johnny can do is stand there, jaw slack, as Taeyong walks back outside.

Johnny and Doyoung are left alone in the store, stunned silent. Doyoung only looks at him, brows furrowed, and Johnny can only half-heartedly shrug.

They go back to work in silence. Johnny tries to ignore Doyoung’s stare burning into the back of his head, just like he’s ignoring the thoughts swirling in his mind.

🔪🔪🔪

After that, Johnny’s crush just slides headfirst into a full-on obsession. As the new week comes, Johnny finds himself  _ seeing  _ Taeyong more often. Taeyong actually steps outside of his house now, whether it be poking around the immaculate garden or seeing his husband off to work, perfectly dressed every time. And every time, he meets eyes with Johnny, giving him a small wave.

And he seems to be outside only while Johnny is, going back inside his house after Johnny’s a few blocks away. 

(…Yes, Johnny checked.)

Johnny doesn’t bring it up to Doyoung, scared that he’ll sound like he’s lost his mind. It already sounds crazy to him. Taeyong has been nothing but devoted to Mr. Kim ever since they got married. What does he want with some young guy who sells meat?

It all comes to a head that Thursday. Johnny’s walking home after the sun has set, passing by the Kim house as Mr. Kim pulls up into the driveway. Taeyong opens the front door, just as Mr. Kim gets out of the car, like it’s some sort of rehearsed skit.

For some reason, Johnny stays there, watching the eerily perfect couple share a chaste kiss. Mr. Kim pulls back first so he can walk into their home, leaving only Johnny and Taeyong outside.

Johnny’s about to start walking, lest Taeyong catch him, but then Taeyong looks directly at him. Before Johnny can stammer out an apology, Taeyong wipes his lips with the back of his hand, right where his husband kissed him, smearing his perfect red lipstick over his face.

“See you tomorrow, Johnny,” Taeyong says, sickly-sweet, just loud enough for Johnny to hear from across the street. Then he walks inside as well, closing the door and leaving Johnny in the dark.

🔪🔪🔪

It’s five minutes past three-thirty that Friday when Doyoung glances at Johnny from the meat grinding station, brows raised. Johnny shrugs. Maybe Taeyong’s just going to be like, fifteen minutes late. It’s happened before.

The rest of the day crawls by. Johnny passes the time by preparing steak cuts, arranging them so the marbling looks good. When Ms. Park comes in, Johnny runs the already-ground beef through the grinder again, twice, while Doyoung nods and half-listens to her chatter.

Every now and then, Johnny’s eyes will wander to the clock, then the door. And every now and then, Johnny gets disappointed.

It’s seven-thirty when Doyoung comes up to him. “Maybe something came up,” he says sympathetically, patting Johnny on the back, “I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

Johnny only nods. He didn’t tell Doyoung what happened yesterday, so of course Doyoung has no suspicions.

Maybe it  _ is  _ nothing serious, and Johnny’s reading too much into things.

“Anyways,” Doyoung says awkwardly, “I have to leave early today—”

“Dude, relax, I remember,” Johnny snorts, “You told me yesterday.”

“You’re sure? I can stay behind if you…”

“I’ll be fine,” Johnny says, patting Doyoung on the back this time, “I’ll close up tonight. You owe me one.”

Doyoung smiles, awkward but genuine. “Thanks, really,” he says, moving to collect his things. Eventually, they say their goodbyes, Doyoung closing the door behind him gently.

Johnny leans against a wall and sighs. He has to close up. He can think about Taeyong later.

🔪🔪🔪

He’s wiping down the steel tables when Taeyong walks in, a few minutes before eight o’clock. 

“Taeyong?” Johnny almost jumps, “I’m about to close up. Do you need anything?”

Taeyong blinks. “Oh no, no, I don’t need meat,” he says awkwardly, waving his hand, “I just want to ask you something.” His hands fly up to his hair, smoothing back nonexistent strands with shaking fingers.

Johnny gulps. “Give me a minute,” he says, wringing the towel in the sink and washing his hands. This nervous, jittery Taeyong is a far cry from the dangerously alluring one of the past days.

Doyoung’s voice saying  _ Something’s gonna give eventually _ echoes in his mind.

“What’s up?” he says, wiping his hands on his apron.

Taeyong looks around, leaning in closer and pulling Johnny towards him. Johnny stays still, very still, afraid to break the tension in the air. This is the first time Taeyong’s actually  _ touched  _ him since last week, and his brain is thrown for a loop.

Finally, Taeyong breathes in deeply. “Do you know how to get rid of a human body?”

Johnny stops. There’s  _ no  _ way he heard that correctly. “Do I… what?”

_ Something’s gonna give eventually,  _ the Doyoung in his head repeats.

“Do you know how to get rid of a human body?” Taeyong repeats slowly, as if that makes it any less disturbing. “I need your help.”

“A… body. A human body,” Johnny sputters. 

“Please, Johnny?” Taeyong says sweetly, “You’re the only one I can trust.”

_ Something’s gonna give eventually. _

Johnny pulls back, searching Taeyong’s face, but all he finds is earnest honesty. Taeyong’s wearing the same red lipstick from last night, only this time it seems hurriedly swiped on, the edges bleeding out slightly.

“I mean I… I don’t know,” Johnny says, too weak to immediately reject the offer, “Listen Taeyong, this is—”

Taeyong sighs, taking Johnny’s face in his hands. Before Johnny can say a word, he presses a firm, but chaste kiss to his lips, the lipstick smearing onto Johnny’s lips as well.

“If you help me,” Taeyong says slowly, breath hot against Johnny’s lips, “We can go all the way.”

Johnny stands there, stunned, every shameful fantasy he’s ever had crawling out of the dark corners of his brain. Because ever since that strange Saturday, his crush on Taeyong hasn’t been that innocent. 

Maybe it never was.

_ Don’t do it,  _ a voice in his head says, sounding too much like Doyoung. Always responsible and logical.

_ I can’t,  _ Johnny wants to say to Taeyong, because this is wrong, and he knows that, and once he crosses this line… He’ll never come back.

“Promise?” Johnny says instead.

Taeyong smiles slowly, and Johnny knows he’s fucked. “I promise.”

“Okay—” Johnny says, “Let me just get some stuff…” 

Taeyong nods.

Rushing to the staff room, he digs through the supply closets to see what he can take. He grabs a half-empty box of plastic gloves (he’ll have to buy a new one), and also two packs of plastic bags. In another closet, he takes some disposable aprons and some trash bags as well, shoving them all inside his backpack.

When he comes back, Taeyong is standing in the middle of the store, staring intently at the steak on display.

🔪🔪🔪

The drive to Taeyong’s house is quiet, at first.

Johnny squeezes himself into the passenger’s seat, knees knocking against the glove compartment. The car is perfectly clean, from the spotless leather seats to the glossy dashboard. Johnny would say it seems as perfect as Taeyong’s life–and he probably would’ve said that just yesterday–but now he wonders how much of Taeyong’s life is a farce.

It feels like they’ve been in the car for so long, the streets stretching out into the night. Johnny clears his throat in the awkward silence, nervously looking over at Taeyong through the corner of his eyes.

“So, uh…”

“He was cheating on me,” Taeyong says suddenly, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Imagine that? He’d always get on my ass for even talking to other men, but then he goes and cheats on me with fucking old hag Park who can’t even cook a goddamn egg properly—”

Taeyong stops himself, breathing in deeply, then breathing out.

“But that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” he giggles, a little delirious, “Because he’s finally gone. Because I  _ killed  _ him.” He forces a smile, jaw clenched and lips stretched thin.

Johnny falls silent, gears turning in his head as he slowly pieces it all together.

“Wait… Ms. Park?!” Johnny says, “The fucking—meat paste lady?”

“The… what?”

Johnny shakes his head. “Ms. Park. She always asks us to run ground beef through the grinder again for her. It’s disgusting.”

Taeyong stares at him for a few moments, eyes going wide. “Johnny,” he says, “Johnny, you’re a genius.”

“Um. Thank you?”

Taeyong smiles, actually  _ smiles, _ eyes bright and full of mirth. “I know exactly how to get rid of him.”

“Let’s just hope you brought enough bags.”

🔪🔪🔪

Standing by the door, Johnny’s hit with the smell of bleach. A  _ lot  _ of it. In fact, he doesn’t even smell any blood, so when Taeyong leads him to Mr. Kim’s body, he’s surprised to see just how  _ much _ there is, staining his crisp white shirt.

“You cleaned up already?” Johnny says, impressed by the spotless kitchen floor and the shining marble counter.

“I cleaned up as much blood as I could,” Taeyong sighs, picking at a dried smudge on the counter. “There’s still some blood under his body that I’ll have to get rid of, but it’s nothing another round of bleach can’t fix.”

Johnny hums in acknowledgement. “So… Do we start?”

Taeyong takes a moment to look at Mr. Kim’s face, eyes open and jaw hanging slack. He clicks his tongue, and pushes the man’s mouth shut.

“Yes.”

Johnny nods. “We’ll need to do this in a room that’s easy to clean…” Johnny says, “Like a bathroom. And we need to change clothes too, because this is gonna be messy.”

Taeyong bites his lip, lipstick staining his teeth. “The master bathroom has more room.”

“We’d have to carry his body up the stairs, though,” Johnny says, “That might mean more blood to clean up.”

Taeyong snorts and waves his hand. “Oh Johnny, I clean this whole house twice a week. I can handle a little extra scrubbing,” he says nonchalantly. “And for the clothes, we can use my husband’s. I’ll be throwing them out anyways.”

“Okay,” Johnny says. He opens up his backpacks, taking out the trash bags he took from the shop. “We can lay these on the floor so there’s less to clean up.”

Taeyong takes the bags with a nod. “Can you bring those knives up for me?” he says, motioning to the knife block by the sink. “Those were a wedding gift, so they’re no use to me now.”

It’s a full set of knives, along with a pair of kitchen shears, all set in polished wood. Johnny takes them, noting how expensive they look, before following Taeyong upstairs.

In the bedroom, Johnny stands awkwardly by the bed as Taeyong digs through the drawers. The room is perfectly clean, disturbing in it’s own way with how impersonal it is. All the furniture matches, all the linen is starched white, and the only sign of any kind of life is a book on one nightstand.

It’s a little sad, really, but Johnny doesn’t get to dwell on that fact for too long. Taeyong walks towards him, handing him what looks like a tank top and some worn shorts. 

Taeyong picks up the trash bags and the knife block, his own set of clothes tucked under his arm. “I’ll be changing in the bathroom,” he says lightly, “Just this once.” 

Johnny coughs in embarrassment, looking down at the clothes in his hands to hide his burning cheeks.

After a few minutes, Taeyong comes out of the bathroom in a big, worn shirt and a pair of boxers, and Johnny has to tear his eyes away from the soft, pale skin of Taeyong’s thighs.

_ This isn’t the time for that,  _ he scolds himself,  _ There’s literally a body downstairs that you’re going to cut up like meat. _

“Let’s go?” Taeyong says innocently, tying his hair back into a small ponytail.

Johnny nods. He doesn’t miss the way Taeyong smirks as he passes him, filling his gut with a nervous thrill.

🔪🔪🔪

After wearing the disposable aprons and putting on gloves, they move to the counter, carefully picking up Mr. Kim. Johnny holds the brunt of the weight with his hands under Mr. Kim’s armpits, while Taeyong grips him by the knees.

Carrying Mr. Kim up to the bathroom is surprisingly easy. They slowly walk up the stairs, Taeyong facing backwards since he knows the steps better.

Once upstairs, they lay Mr. Kim down on top of a plastic bag, right beside the shower drain. They stand there for a moment, looking down at Mr. Kim.

“We’ll need to, uh, get rid of his clothes first,” Johnny says awkwardly, “So they don’t get in the way.”

Taeyong reaches for one pair of shears, kneeling down to cut at the shoulder seam of Mr. Kim’s shirt. Johnny gets the other pair, settling opposite Taeyong and copying his movements.

Taeyong cuts down the sleeve from the shoulder, and Johnny does the same. They continue like this for a while, Johnny mirroring Taeyong’s every move. They cut through Mr. Kim’s dress shirt, pulling away the pieces of cloth to reveal the mess of his chest and stomach littered with stab wounds.

Johnny makes a mental note to never piss off Taeyong.

While stacking the pieces of cloth all together, Taeyong snorts, and Johnny gives him a questioning look.

“Oh, it’s just–You don’t have to deal with this at the shop, right?” Taeyong says, a sardonic smile on his face, “You know, since animals don’t wear clothes.”

Johnny barks out a laugh, despite himself. “Yeah, they come in with the heads off and everything. Doyoung and I just chop them up.”

Taeyong chuckles at that, moving to unbuckle Mr. Kim’s belt to slide it off.

“We can, uh, leave his underwear on,” Johnny says, watching Taeyong take the shears and start cutting through the side seams. This time, Taeyong fully laughs, one hand going up to cover his mouth.

“Oh Johnny,” he says, still laughing slightly, “There’s nothing to be scared of.” He smiles, dangerously alluring, and Johnny gulps. “But if it’s better for you, we’ll leave the underwear on.”

Johnny blushes, turning his focus to cutting the seam on his side. They peel off the front part of Mr. Kim’s slacks, and then pull away the back part with only a little bit of awkwardness.

After taking off his socks, Mr. Kim is left wearing nothing but plain grey boxers. Johnny huffs, stretching his back.

“Let’s drain as much blood as we can first," he asks, “Can you pass me your sharpest knife?”

Taeyong hands him one with a suspiciously scratched blade, but Johnny decides to ignore it. With his free hand, he checks for the jugular, pressing around Mr. Kim’s neck and jaw until he finds it.

Taking a deep breath, Johnny slices through the skin, firm and deep to get past the muscle. The blood is thick, oozing out the cut slowly, and Johnny and Taeyong watch it flow towards the drain.

When it seems like no more blood will flow, Johnny wipes the knife off on his apron and settles back on his heels.

“Can I cut his head off?” Taeyong says, “I don’t want to see his face anymore.”

“Ah, sure,” Johnny says, “We’re gonna need something like… a cleaver? Or a saw?”

“We have some saws we used for gardening,” Taeyong says quickly, getting up, “Give me a few minutes.”

🔪🔪🔪

Taeyong comes back with pruning saws, and he kneels down on the (relatively) cleaner side of Mr. Kim’s head. Setting one saw down, he takes the other one and presses it down on Mr. Kim’s neck awkwardly.

“Here–” Johnny says, moving behind Taeyong and helping him grip on the saw. He positions it just under the Adam’s apple, adjusting Taeyong’s position as well.

“Put your body weight into it, bone is tough to cut through. Especially since we’re gonna pass through the spine.”

Johnny feels Taeyong nod, gripping the saw tighter. It’s strangely intimate, the way he’s pressed against Taeyong’s back, head nearly resting on his shoulder.

“Go slowly–back and forth, like this,” Johnny says, moving the saw, “Since we already took care of the jugular, we don’t need to worry too much about blood.”

Taeyong hums, slowly taking control of the saw. Johnny lets go, watching Taeyong’s forearms flex as he steadily saws down.

Strangely, he feels his heart skip a beat, but not the nervous kind he felt when Taeyong told him about the body.

He’s brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Taeyong trying to catch his breath. Mr. Kim’s head lolls to the side, the bone sawed nearly halfway through.

“I think we should snap his neck,” Johnny says, surprised at his own calmness, “That’ll be quicker.”

Taeyong moves slightly, letting Johnny shuffle closer. Johnny places a hand over Mr. Kim’s face, and the other over the rest of his neck. He pulls them in opposite directions, and when they snap apart, he and Taeyong both gasp.

They sit there, stunned, until Taeyong reaches for a plastic bag and stuffs the head in unceremoniously.

“Well,” Johnny says.

“Well.” Taeyong answers.

Johnny clears his throat.  _ “That’s _ a start. Let’s get to the rest of the limbs.”

🔪🔪🔪

Johnny handles the shoulders, carefully maneuvering the saw so he doesn’t waste time sawing through extra bone. Taeyong handles the hips, pushing up Mr. Kim’s boxers to saw right at the joint.

Once the arms and legs are separated from Mr. Kim’s body, they switch places and start separating the smaller joints. Taeyong switches to using a big knife, whacking at the elbows until the bones break. Johnny sticks with the saws, kneeling down on the body’s shins to get at the knees.

The work becomes worryingly easier to think about when Johnny imagines Mr. Kim as some strange, mutated pig, partly because he’s headless. Sure, the joints are a little more complicated, but it’s nothing compared to a heavy saw and some perseverance.

Cutting off the hands and feet is easy now, and since there’s no meat to get from them, Johnny and Taeyong chop them off a little haphazardly. Taeyong stretches after taking off both hands, before putting them away in two plastic bags layered on top of each other. The body’s feet go into another bag, and Johnny ties the bags tightly.

Johnny wipes the sweat off his forehead with a huff, looking at the pieces in front of them. “We can just put the torso away in one of the trash bags. Too much work to mess with the organs.”

“There won’t be any good meat there anyways,” Taeyong hums, poking at the torso’s side. He takes the arms, bringing them closer to Johnny. “Do you think these will be fine?”

Johnny chuckles. “It’s all gonna be ground up anyways. It doesn’t matter.” He reaches over to take a knife from the block, slicing around the upper arm halfway.

It’s his chance to show off this time, sliding the knife underneath the meat to separate it from the bone. Once that’s done, he takes one of the cuts and skins it, tossing the skin into a bag.

Johnny looks up to see Taeyong staring at him with dark eyes, cheeks flushed. Taeyong shuffles closer, taking Johnny's face in between his bloody hands, and he kisses him.

This time, Johnny pulls him closer with a groan, Taeyong’s knees sliding across the tiled floor. Taeyong gasps, licking at Johnny’s lips so he opens his mouth.

It’s exhilarating, finally getting to kiss Taeyong like this, open-mouthed and messy. Taeyong is shameless, groaning loudly and sucking on Johnny’s tongue desperately, like he’s been starving this whole time. It’s the most unguarded Taeyong’s ever been, his perfect househusband facade slowly cracking under Johnny’s firm grip.

Taeyong moans, his bloody gloves slipping down Johnny’s apron. Johnny pulls him even  _ closer, _ filling his lungs with Taeyong’s perfume, instead of the scent of meat and thick blood.

It’s strangely thrilling, making out on Taeyong’s bloodied bathroom floor, just a few inches away from his (ex)husband’s mutilated corpse.  _ God, _ Johnny’s definitely sick in the head. But after methodically chopping a man’s limbs off, he can’t find it in himself to care.

And later, when Taeyong gags around bloodied fingers down his throat, Johnny realizes that he enjoys being screwed up. Especially when such a sweet, disgustingly beautiful  _ angel _ is beneath him, moaning Johnny’s name with blood, cum, and spit smeared around his mouth.

“You’re obscene,” Johnny says reverently, taking Taeyong’s face between his hands, thumb swiping at the mess on his lips.

Taeyong smiles, eyes watery but blown black with lust. “Only for you,” he whispers, licking at Johnny’s fingers, “Only for you.”

🔪🔪🔪

The next day, Ms. Park walks into the butcher shop, lips pursed together.

“What do you need, ma’am?” Johnny asks, moving to where she stands.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience…” she says, “But do you have any more ground beef? I heard that Mr. Kim’s gone missing, so a bunch of us wanted to give Taeyong some food so he doesn’t have to worry about cooking.”

Johnny smiles. “No worries, we got a brand new batch today,” he says, “Let me grind it up for you.”

🔪🔪🔪

_ End. _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> gross! happy halloween :D
> 
> twt: [jyanyongs](https://twitter.com/jyanyongs)


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